


I Didn't Think We'd Meet Like This

by snowstormdaydreams



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempted Murder, Concerned Varric, Confused Fenris, Everyone loves the Inquisitor, F/M, Found Family, Love at First Sight, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Second Chances, Sort Of, snarky inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowstormdaydreams/pseuds/snowstormdaydreams
Summary: After Hawke is left in the Fade, Fenris shows up at Skyhold to get revenge, but something about the Inquisitor makes him change his mind.  When she lets him off scot free, he's utterly confused and decides to stick around, despite all her friends hell bent on letting him know they're not happy about what he did.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Inquisitor, Fenris/Female Lavellan, Fenris/Female Mage Lavellan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

Presley hummed as she walked up the steps to her quarters, reading the report Leliana had given her. After Adamant, things had been rough, and she was glad the Chargers had gone to completely level the place. She felt a sharp pang of regret as she thought about the Champion of Kirkwall. Even over a month later she was questioning the choice she’d made in the Fade.

Heading towards her desk, she was shocked when someone slammed her against the wall. It was an elf with silver hair, and silver lines mapped all over his neck. She knew exactly who it was from the description in Varric’s book.

Fenris stared at the little elf he had pinned against the wall, momentarily distracted by her amber eyes. He had been planning this since the minute he’d gotten the news that Hawke was gone. Before he could second guess himself, he pushed his dagger forward.

She gasped as she felt the pain flood her torso, and her magic hummed when she wrapped her hand around his wrist. “You’re a mage?!” He was shocked, knowing she could have attacked him the moment he’d trapped her against the wall.

Her face was rapidly paling. “Um, hey, yeah. Fenris, right? I’ve always wanted to meet you,” she looked down at the blood seeping through her top. “I’m gonna be honest… I didn’t think it would be like this. Did you want to talk about Hawke?”

Much to his annoyance, something fluttered in his chest. Sighing heavily, he stared down at the rapidly spreading bloodstain, “Where are your healers?”

She seemed surprised by the question, cracking a weak smile. “I hate to tell you this, but the healers won’t be very helpful in your assassination.”

His lips quirked up against his will before he quickly forced it away. “Just tell me where they are.”

Her hand on his arm stopped him. “Just go lock the door, I can heal myself.”

He looked at her like she was crazy, but he had a feeling nothing would change her mind, and there wasn’t time to argue. Rushing down to lock the door, he ran back up to find her leaning against the edge of her desk. “I need you to get a sheet from the drawers, and there’s a kit on top so I can stitch myself up.” 

There was something incredibly insane about the woman he had just stabbed asking him to fetch supplies. There was something even more insane about the fact that he did it without question.

Once he’d brought her the sheet, she told him to rip it into strips while she unbuttoned her top. Taking two of the strips from him, she took a second to ask him to get some water before shoving one in her mouth. Her scream was muffled by the fabric as she pulled the dagger out, dropping it to the ground with a clang as she yanked the cloth from her mouth. She opened her shirt and pressed the second strip against the seeping blood, the room beginning to spin around her.

Fenris returned with the water, seeing the Inquisitor look like she might faint at any moment. She didn’t seem aware of his return, and instead of putting the bucket on the desk, he wet one of the strips, gently pushing her hands aside to remove the cloth she was holding against the wound. The bleeding had slowed, so he cleaned it quickly and strung the needle. 

Her eyes were oddly intense as she watched him stitch her up. As soon as he’d finished and cleaned up the wound, she pressed a hand to the stitches and did a healing spell of some sort. Color returned to her face, but she was still wobbly on her feet so he helped her to the bed. Before she laid down, she slipped off her bloody shirt and dropped it on the ground unceremoniously. 

Before he could walk away, she caught his hand. “You should get out of here, so no one knows you were here. Go visit Varric, he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Don’t you wish to have me apprehended?”

She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “No… I’m sorry about Hawke, I know he was very important to you.”

There was another flutter in his chest, and he realized she confused him more then even Hawke ever had. She pulled her hand from his and turned over in the bed, and it only took a few seconds for her breathing to even out.


	2. Chapter 2

When Presley woke, there was no sign that Fenris had ever been there. Everything had been cleaned up, and if it weren’t for the pain in her side and the stitches, she would have thought it was all a dream. It was already dark out, so she had to have been asleep for at least a few hours, and she knew she would have been missed.

Forcing herself out of bed, she redid her braid and did another healing spell. Changing into fresh clothes, she made sure that there really was no sign of the earlier attack before descending the stairs. As soon as she exited, she was swarmed by Leliana and Dorian. 

“Presley! We were a little worried. You’ve never locked your door for hours.” Dorian pulled her in for a hug, and she had to suppress a wince when his buckle pressed into her side.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well, so I took a little nap.”

They looked like they didn’t believe it for a second, but they nodded. “Are you feeling better? We’re going to play some Wicked Grace, Bull is buying drinks.”

“Of course, I never turn down free drinks and Wicked Grace. Are you coming?” She smiled at Leliana.

She watched the two exchange another look before Leliana’s lips curled at the corners. “Well, I’ve been barred from Wicked Grace, but I’ll be along soon for drinks. I just want to take care of something first.”

Presley wondered if that something was searching her quarters, but she didn’t ask. Instead she waved as Dorian pulled her away. On their walk across the courtyard, Dorian linked his arm with hers. “What were you really doing all day?” He got straight to the point.

“Would you believe I was having sex?” Her voice tipped up at the end.

“If you had, you would have spilled the details to Leliana and I. We adore juicy Inquisitor gossip.”

“I know, unfortunately, I really was just sleeping.”

They reached the workhouse and he shook his head. “I still don’t believe you, but I  _ suppose _ you’re entitled to your secrets.” He kissed her cheek as they walked through the door. 

Cole appeared in front of her, and from the furrow in his brow, she was pretty sure he knew exactly what had happened this afternoon. Instead of spilling it, he just took her hand as Dorian headed towards their friends. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Cole, thank you,” she squeezed his hand, but he still didn’t look convinced. 

He flitted by her side as she walked further into the building, the fire casting a warm glow on the whole room. There was a table set up for Wicked Grace, and another close by with drinks, cups, and food. Everyone had congregated at one end of the table, but she couldn’t quite see around Bull to figure out what was occupying their attention.

Cole took her hand again like he did when he was worried, and she smiled over at him as she squeezed around Bull. It only took a moment for her to spot the familiar silver hair, and she felt a jolt of something that should have been fear, but she was pretty sure was something else entirely. Cole looked between her and Fenris several times before setting his mouth into a grim line. He didn’t look like he was going to say anything, instead glaring sharply at the other man.

Fenris turned around as if he could feel Cole’s gaze and caught sight of her. He studied her face intently, but besides looking a little pale, it seemed the Inquisitor was doing a bit better. Varric interrupted himself in the middle of his story, practically pushing Fenris aside to go see her.

“Hey pipsqueak, you had us going crazy this afternoon. Everything ok?” He saw the way Cole was clutching her hand. Fenris was amazed that Varric could look at the woman who had killed Hawke just a little over a month ago with such unbridled affection. 

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I was just taking a nap, I shouldn’t have locked the door though, I know how you guys worry.”

Sera threw her arm around Presley’s shoulders. “I thought you were getting up to something naughty,” the blonde waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Presley laughed. “No, just a nap. Which, I guess since I was supposed to be working, is a little naughty,” she elbowed Sera lightly.

The other elf just rolled her eyes and moved back to her conversation with Blackwall. Varric’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Presley, I want you to meet Fenris! He’s come for a visit, but he promises he’s not here for retribution. Fenris, meet Inquisitor Lavellan.”

Fenris practically blushed under Presley’s stare, but she seemed to shake herself out of it and smiled. She held her hand out for him to shake, feeling the way Cole’s grip tightened. “It’s nice to meet you,” her smile fell into a frown. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Varric’s smile drooped a bit as well, but to Fenris’s surprise, there was no trace of anger. He took her hand, shaking it gently, irrationally feeling like if he squeezed too hard she might break. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Thank you for your condolences.” He wasn’t sure what else to say when the woman he’d tried to kill just hours earlier was now looking at him as if it had never happened.

He was saved from any further small talk as Bull’s voice cut through the chatter, insisting they begin the game. Dorian and Cole sat on either side of the Inquisitor, and Varric across from her. Fenris sat beside his friend, and everyone else took their seats.

They’d just gotten through the first round when Leliana walked in. “Hey, you know you’re not allowed to play anymore!’ Sera’s voice echoed through the rafters.

The spymaster rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’m not here to play. I have to speak with Dorian a moment, and then I’ll come back in for a drink.” 

Her face gave nothing away as Dorian stood. He looked around the table threateningly. “Don’t start the next round without me.”

Bull called after them. “And no spymasters helping the Inquisitor!” 

Presley was practically sweating with nerves the longer Dorian and Leliana stayed outside. Cole seemed to pick up on it, and pat her arm gently. When they finally returned, Dorian’s poker face wasn’t nearly as good as Leliana’s and he looked a bit grim before pasting on a smile. Neither of them looked towards her, but for the rest of the night she couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew something she didn’t.

By the time they’d finished their third round, it was nearly two in the morning. Sera and Bull were both passed out. Sera from trying to outdrink Bull, and Bull from celebrating outdrinking Sera. Dorian and Leliana who usually called it an early night were still there, and Josephine had joined for the third round which she had won. Varric was so happy Fenris was there, he’d kept a stream of stories coming through the night. Cole on the other hand had been quiet, and as soon as the third round was over, he whispered a quick goodbye to Presley and disappeared.

Blackwall stood from the table and stretched. “Well, I think I’ll call it a night. Lady Ambassador, can I accompany you back to the keep?”

Josephine smiled and gathered her winnings before wishing everyone a goodnight. Standing up as well, Presley fetched blankets to lay over Sera and Bull, which were kept in the workshop for that explicit purpose. After she’d laid down the blankets, she turned when Varric cleared his throat.

“I think Fenris and I will head out as well. Don’t stay here and clean this all up, ok?”

“But…”

Dorian jumped in before she could protest. “Don’t worry, we’ll accompany the Inquisitor back to the keep and make sure she gets to bed.” Presley opened her mouth to protest again only for Dorian to wave her off. “I’ll be sure that Josephine gives a generous tip to the servants who tidy up.”

Presley stuck her lower lip out in a pout, but he had answered her concern. “Fine.” She turned to Fenris and Varric. “It was nice to meet you Fenris, good game Varric.”

Varric grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll beat you next week.”

“You can try!” She waved as he led his friend away. Taking one last look around to be sure everyone was settled, she hid a yawn behind her arm and wandered out of the building. “Make sure Stitches brings these two a hangover concoction. They’ll need it.”

Leliana nodded as she and Dorian trailed after the Inquisitor. When they reached her quarters, she wished them a goodnight and went to enter when the spymaster’s voice stopped her. “Actually Presley, we wanted to talk with you about something.”

She knew she was in trouble because Leliana almost never used her first name, despite how close they were. “Um… ok, what’s up?”

The hall was deserted, but Dorian shook his head. “In your quarters,” he opened the door and ushered her in.

Reluctantly walking up the stairs, they got to her room, and she eased herself onto the edge of the desk. “What’s going on?”

Leliana pulled something from her pocket, and with as tired as she was, it took Presley a moment to realize it was a piece of a shirt.  _ Her  _ shirt. “Where did you find that?”

“It was in your fireplace. It has blood on it.”

“You searched my room?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “You can’t honestly be surprised. You were locked in your room an entire afternoon. That’s not like you.”

“But… my privacy!” It was a weak argument, because between growing up Dalish, and being best friends with her spymaster, she had never had much privacy.

It was Leliana's turn to look unimpressed. “Why was there a bloody shirt in your fireplace?”

Presley knew that telling them Fenris had  _ maybe _ tried to kill her would only cause trouble, so she had to think of some other reason. “I couldn’t get the blood out so I figured I’d burn it.”

“And your door being locked all afternoon?”

“Like I said, I wasn’t feeling well, and I took a nap. I must have locked the door by accident.”

Dorian and Leliana both looked like they were preparing to rant at her, but a knock at the door stopped them. “Come in!” Presley had never been so grateful to be disturbed late at night- until a silver head of hair appeared over the railing.

Her friends turned to see who had entered, just as Fenris froze upon seeing them. “What is he doing here?”

“Um…”

When Presley couldn’t come up with an answer. Dorian turned to the other man. “What are you doing here?”

Fenris looked at the Inquisitor who’s eyes were the size of saucers. He considered trying to make an excuse, but something akin to guilt had been eating at him since she had let him leave after nearly killing her.

“I tried to kill the Inquisitor earlier today, and…” Before he could finish, Leliana had drawn a knife, and Dorian’s hand sparked as he charged a spell.

Presley stepped between them and pushed their arms down. Leliana’s dagger was still clasped in her hand. “It was an accident.”

Her friends stared at her blankly. “How is trying to kill you an accident?”

“He was angry about what happened in the Fade, he lost his friend.”

“What, so he wants to kill ours?”

Fenris rushed to interject. “Not anymore, I assure you.”

Leliana shook her head. “I’ll have to call the guards…”

Presley turned so quickly she felt a little dizzy. “No, you don’t. He’s not going to kill me, and he stitched me up so I didn’t die. He was just angry.”

“Well, I’m angry, does that mean I can try to kill him?” Dorian sounded flippant.

“No, he’s not a threat.”

“Inquisitor, I really must insist he leave Skyhold… at the very least!” 

“He’s here as Varric’s guest. I don’t want any action taken. In fact, none of this leaves this room. Understand?”

“Presley…”

“Inquisitor…”

She shook her head and they knew it was futile to argue. She rarely ever gave orders without allowing at least some suggestions, but when she did, there was no changing her mind. “I promise, I don’t think he’s dangerous, but if anything happens, you can have him arrested. Now, goodnight, both of you.”

They were dumbfounded, but Dorian took the time to give her a hug before they uttered their goodnights. The looks that they shot Fenris as they passed by were menacing enough to make even him uneasy. He watched as she waited to hear the door close before she spoke.

“So, while you’re here, I’d be extra careful. And probably avoid Dorian and Leliana at all costs.”

“Why would you do this for me?”

She looked confused at the question. “Do what?”

“Not have me arrested? Tell your companions they can’t kill me?”

“Well, it seems mean. All you did was try to kill me.”

It was a jaw dropping statement, but he was careful to remain passive. “That… are you sure you’re fit to be a leader?”

She shrugged as she walked around the desk and sat in her chair. “I don’t know, some people seem to think so, others want me dead,” she smiled wryly at him. “Be careful though, because Dorian, if not Leliana will spill this to someone. If you don’t like being constantly watched, you might want to make a graceful exit.”

“I would like to join the Inquisition,” the words popped out before he could fully think it through.

She tapped her lower lip with her finger. “Hmm… You probably won’t feel that way in a few days. If after my friends try to terrorize you, you’re still interested in joining, we can talk.”

“Terrorize me?”

“Oh, yeah. And get ready for a sparring match with Bull. He will definitely challenge you. Depending how fast news travels… Cullen might too. Sera might try to shoot you with an arrow. Anyways, good luck with your conversation with Dorian and Leliana, they’ll be waiting for you outside the door.”

“Thank you for the warnings.” He was reluctant to leave, but it was already extremely late, and he had no excuse to be there. “I’ll go have that conversation then.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow if they don’t kill you.” She smiled brightly, and he lingered for a few final seconds before turning around and walking down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Presley walked out of her room late the next morning, with a slight headache from drinking the night before, and hoping that by some miracle Dorian and Leliana had kept the secret to themselves. When she walked out into the hall the nobles were chattering away about Fenris’s arrival. Varric wasn’t in his usual place which was odd, and neither was Dorian. It was past breakfast time, and she wondered where they might be.

Walking out into the courtyard, she immediately realized why they weren’t in their usual spots. People were gathered around the sparring ring, and even from the top of the steps she could see Bull and Fenris going at it. Apparently keeping things a secret was too much to ask for. 

As she made her way to the front of the group, recruits parted to let her pass. When she reached Dorian’s side, he had the decency to look a tad guilty. “Presley… We weren’t expecting you to be up for a while.”

“I suppose The Iron Bull decided to spar Fenris this morning just out of the blue.”

“Well, you know Leliana, always so dramatic… she insisted Bull know what happened. He is your bodyguard.”

“And the sparring?”

“Because he’s your friend?”

“Who else is my friend exactly?”

“Oh, Leliana, Cole possibly, and also Cullen is up next.”

“Cole wants to fight him?!” She knew she was squeaking.

“Varric had to have a talk with him about how killing Fenris would not be helping, but he still wants to hurt him.” He hushed his voice to a whisper. “The man tried to kill you Presley. I don’t think it’s an overreaction to want to protect you.”

“You don’t seem to remember I can take care of myself,” she grumbled.

“On the contrary, we know what a terror you are on the battlefield. We just love you.”

Presley immediately softened. She had never had so many people care about her before. In her clan, she’d been a lonesome, solitary child, and had been further excluded from when she’d been named first. After her parents had died, many had blamed her, and even those that didn’t began treating her with a sort of chilling civility. Between her mother being from another clan, and discovering she was a mage… her clan had not always been so warm. 

“Well, thank you for caring.”

Dorian scoffed. “Please, you’re one of the only living beings in the world I  _ actually _ care about. Leliana and I would have murdered him had you let us.”

“Yes, I’m well aware. Where is Leliana by the way?”

“I actually don’t know. Maybe helping Sera make a perfect, nonlethal shot?”

Presley widened her eyes. “Maybe we should go find them.”

Dorian shrugged. “I’m pretty happy watching The Iron Bull slam the man to the ground over and over.”

She was about to pull him away from the ring, when Fenris stood up, and she heard the distinct sound of an arrow flying through the air. She watched in mild horror when the arrow passed within inches of Fenris’s left ear, and landed on the ground with a note attached. He picked it up to read the note, and she saw his normally impassive expression crease just slightly as he read it.

“Oh Creators, I guess Sera found her perfect shot.”

“She really is a marvelous archer. A dreadful conversationalist, but a marvelous archer.”

When Cullen entered the ring, several of his recruits cheered, and she realized that the next match was with practice swords and armor. The first to draw blood would win. For a moment she wondered if the lyrium in Fenris’s skin altered the color of his blood, but she bat the thought away.

“I’m going to go find her, and possibly confiscate her bow.”

“Good luck. I’m going to stay and watch the handsome men fight.”

“That’s fair. Please keep the bloodshed to a minimum.”

“Cullen looks awfully angry, so… no promises.”

“Again, totally fair. I’ll try to be back before someone can kill Fenris.” 

She walked back through the crowd and headed towards the tavern. It was best to check Sera’s room before the battlements, because knowing her, she had rushed back so she wouldn’t be caught. Maryden was singing as she entered, and the Chargers were at the bar toasting their leader. Narrowing her eyes, she frowned. Did that mean some of the Chargers knew as well? Considering neither Krem nor Stitches would meet her eye, she figured it was a resounding yes.

Sighing heavily, she headed up the stairs. She was about to turn the corner to go to Sera’s room when she changed her mind and headed up the second flight. Sure enough, Varric was standing with Cole in his little corner. Cole pointed so Varric would turn to see her as she approached, and they both sort of smiled.

“Pipsqueak… I suppose you already saw the performance in the courtyard?” Varric looked like he hoped the answer was no.

“Yes, I did. Fenris doesn’t back down from a fight, and considering how many people are ready to fight him…” She smiled cheerily. “I hope he got plenty of sleep last night.”

Varric chuckled. “I wouldn’t bet on it.” He sobered when he glanced at Cole. “You should have told everyone what happened.”

“That’s why you’re hurting,” Cole’s voice was soft.

She smiled reassuringly. The pain in her side had settled into a steady ache, but it wasn’t so bad. “It doesn’t hurt much today. Besides, there was no need to tell everyone, it was a mistake.”

“He stabbed you, on purpose!” Cole sounded indignant.

She took his hand and squeezed gently. “He was angry. Hawke was his best friend.”

Varric scoffed. “He was my best friend too but I didn’t stab you!”

“But you were upset with me for a few weeks. You wouldn’t speak to me, and we’re good friends! Fenris has no idea who I am. To him, I’m just some Inquisitor who got his best friend killed.”

“There’s one thing that confuses me thought,” his brow furrowed.

“What?”

“If he went in with the intention to kill you, why isn’t he dead? You could have roasted him alive. And if you hadn’t, how are  _ you _ not dead?”

“Recognition, magic humming, green eyes, so sad, regret, regret, Creators it hurts.” Cole spouted off before Presley could even consider how to answer Varric’s question. “You didn’t want to hurt him.”

It was just the three of them on the top floor, so she lowered her eyes to the floor. “No, I didn’t, I thought he deserved to be angry.”

Varric laughed. “Only you would be compassionate to a man who tried to murder you in cold blood.”

“He’s your friend, you should be happy I told Leliana and Dorian they couldn’t murder  _ him _ .”

He shook his head. “I am pipsqueak, I really am. But I’m concerned with how little regard you have for your own safety.”

“If I thought he’d try again, I’d have him thrown in the dungeon, don’t worry. But I don’t think he will, and he says he wants to join the Inquisition. If he can survive the next few days, we could use the help.”

“He said he wants to join the Inquisition? He didn’t mention that,” Varric sounded thoughtful.

She shrugged. “That’s what he said. I’ve got to go find Sera though, meet you guys for lunch in an hour?”

“So like an hour and a half? We’ll be there.”

She rolled her eyes and waved before descending the stairs. Contrary to what she’d thought, Sera was not in her room, so Presley started to roam the battlements. She reached the spot where she guessed the shot had come from, but there was still no sign of Sera. It suddenly occurred to her that the Chargers had been standing around someone, and she knew instantly that they hadn’t just been celebrating Bull’s intimidation tactics.

Walking down the stairs, she peaked over at the crowd that was still gathered. Fenris’s silver hair glinted in the sunlight, and when she saw his opponent her jaw nearly dropped. Cassandra Pentaghast herself stood holding a practice sword as she and the other warrior circled each other. 

Knowing at this point, the snowball was rolling down the hill too fast for her to catch up, she headed to the tavern to at least get a drink, if not to talk to Sera. As she entered, she spotted Sera and the Chargers still drinking at the bar, quieting just slightly as she approached the bar to order a drink.

“Uh… hey boss,” The Iron Bull was the first to greet her.

Cabot set her drink in front of her as she nodded in his direction. Sera slung an arm around her shoulders as Presley chugged her drink. “Did you see my arrow earlier? Good he didn’t move. Varric wanted it to be a perfect shot!”

“Varric helped you?” Presley sounded exasperated. “I can’t believe he helped you shoot at his friend!”

Sera was indignant. “I shot  _ next _ to his friend.”

“Oh, pardon me,” she rolled her eyes. “I have to go get some work done, but try not to shoot next to Fenris again.”

Bull interjected. “How about once more?”

Knowing there was no winning, she sighed heavily. “Fine, once more… but that’s it, and please don’t kill him. And no more sparring either!” She pointed at Bull accusingly.

He held up his hands and nodded solemnly. “Right boss, as soon as everyone has had a turn, no more sparring.”

“You’re all…” Presley deflated. “I appreciate that everyone wants to protect me.”

He pat her on the shoulder on her way by, and Krem smiled as she passed him. The crowd around the sparring ring had thinned out, but she didn’t even look to see who was there now. She headed for her quarters, and sat at her desk, suddenly feeling exhausted.

There was a strong urge to just take a nap, but she resisted, starting on the reports that Josephine must have left on her desk. After a while of sitting and working, there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” She hoped she was loud enough for the person to hear, because she was in the middle of finishing something.

Two sets of footsteps came up the steps, and when she looked up, Leliana and Dorian stood there with a tray of food and a mug. “Cole told us you didn’t eat.”

She scoffed. “How does he know?”

“You didn’t show up for lunch with he and Varric.”

Presley winced. “Oh, I totally forgot!”

“We realized, so we brought lunch to you. Varric is looking after Fenris. The man perseveres, I’ll give him that.” Dorian sounded reluctant to admit it.

“Please tell me he’s not mortally wounded.”

“He sparred with Bull, Cullen, Cassandra, Blackwall,  _ and _ Leliana. Sera shot two arrows at him, and Cole did his best to glare a hole in the back of his head. But he’s still alive, I assure you.”

She blew out a breath in relief, taking a sip of the tea they’d brought her. “Well that’s good. I’m guessing he’s withdrawn his offer to join the Inquisition.”

Leliana’s lips quirked up in a smile. “On the contrary, he spoke to Cullen, Josephine, and I. He’s keen on joining us.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen Josephine since last night. What did she do?”

Dorian’s face lit up. “She threatened to cover up his murder if the need ever arises.”

“Awfully aggressive for an ambassador.”

“She wasn’t interested in forming connections. However, after careful consideration… we decided his addition to the Inquisition is up to you.”

“I was starting to wonder if being Inquisitor had any perks,” she smirked. “Let him join. If he can hold his own in sparring matches with the commander of our armies, our spymaster, a seeker, and two of our strongest warriors- he’ll be a good addition. He’s also not intimidated by Sera’s antics, which is always a plus.”

Dorian didn’t look overly happy with her decision, but after a moment he spoke. “A question if I may?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Why are you being so lenient? This man tried to  _ kill _ you. He attacked you in your own quarters!”

She thought for a moment, taking another sip of her tea. “People deserve second chances, right? Leliana and Cassandra were  _ convinced _ I’d been a party in the Divine’s murder. But I tried to close the Breach, and they gave me a second chance. He attacked me, but for whatever reason, he stitched me up. I think he deserves a second chance.”

Leliana exchanged a look with Dorian before she spoke. “We trust your judgement Inquisitor, I’ll inform Cullen and Josie about your decision. Do you have any suggestions about where Fenris could be most useful?”

“Hm… well, he managed to sneak into Skyhold and into my quarters, all without anyone seeing him. I have all the faith in the world in our people, so someone who can do that? Maybe he can tell us if there are any things we overlooked. Otherwise, maybe he’d be useful as an agent for you or Cullen.”

“An agent?” Leliana was surprised. 

“He’s intimidating, stealthy, and a strong fighter. Put him in our traveling party if you’d like. He’d be a good set of eyes for you or Cullen.” Presley got distracted by something on the page in front of her. “See what fits, and let me know. And get a group ready to go to Crestwood tomorrow. There’s a dragon bothering travelers. It’s located near Caer Branch, and I want to be sure your agents are safe.”

“Of course Inquisitor. I’ll alert Bull and Cole, and Dorian can accompany you as well. Would that be alright?” She waited for a nod in confirmation before softening. “And please eat, or I’ll send Cole to pester you.”

“Low blow Leili,” Presley grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the war room.”


	4. Chapter 4

The sun had barely risen when Presley walked into the war room. All three of her advisors had their heads bent together as they spoke quietly. As she walked in, they looked up, but didn’t smile and her stomach dropped. “What’s going on?”

Josephine took a deep breath. “Inquisitor… Leliana’s agent has sent back word on what’s going on in Wycome.”

She could practically feel the blood drain from her face. “Let me see.”

Leliana handed her the message, and the room was deathly silent as she read. When she was done, she was seething. “The Duke? The Duke is attacking my clan?” Presley was practically vibrating with barely repressed anger.

“I’m sorry Inquisitor, we’ve strategized what could be done,” Cullen handed her another page.

She scanned it quickly, contemplating her options. “Josephine, see what your diplomats can do.” Her voice was calm and level.

None of them questioned her, and they moved onto other matters. Presley needed to leave for Crestwood in a little over an hour, so she needed to take care of things before she left. When their meeting was concluded, Leliana walked her back to her quarters.

“So, I took what you said into account. Fenris will be accompanying you to Crestwood.”

Presley looked up curiously from the bag she was shoving clothes into. “Oh?”

Her spymaster nodded. “You need all the eyes watching you possible.” Presley stuck her tongue out, but Leliana ignored it. “Besides, if he does anything suspicious, none of your companions will hesitate to incapacitate him. Although, since Cole is still struggling to accept Fenris’s presence after what happened, Varric will be accompanying you instead. So maybe not him, but I trust Dorian and Bull would.”

Frowning, she finished packing her bag. “Poor Cole, I don’t even have time to go talk to him.”

“He probably needs some time, you can speak with him as soon as you return. How is the wound by the way? Fenris told me it was deep.”

Presley put a hand over her stomach. “It hurts some, but I’ve done some spells to speed up the healing. And yes, I promise to let Dorian know if things get worse,” she smiled reassuringly as she headed to the stairs, Leliana at her heel.

“Good. I’ll walk you to the stables if you don’t mind.”

“You’re only being nice so you can threaten Fenris.”

Leliana smiled coyly. “You wound me Inquisitor.”

They bumped shoulders as they made their way through the keep. “Lucky we have good healers then.” She winked at the other woman when Leliana shook her head, watching the Inquisitor practically skip down the stairs and to the stable. 

They’d been travelling all day, and finally made camp before it could get too dark. Presley had been distracted, fretting over her clan, and wondering if she’d made the wrong decision. Dorian had been riding alongside her, while Bull, Varric, and Fenris rode ahead. She was glad to see Bull getting along well with the lanky elf, but she was much too preoccupied to give it much thought.

Tired from traveling, nearly everyone retired as soon as they’d eaten. Even though Dorian had tried to convince Presley to get some sleep so she wouldn’t wake him later, she was feeling too strung out and restless. He’d offered to stay up with her, but she’d refused, and he’d given her a kiss on the cheek and gone to their tent looking concerned.

She was still up hours later when she heard rustling to her left. A silver head emerged, the fire casting a faint orange tint on it. When he looked up and saw her, he seemed mildly surprised. “Inquisitor,” he glanced around the camp. “Is everything alright?”

She ignored the question. “Please, call me Presley. Really only my advisors use my title, and it’s mostly to annoy me.” 

Crawling the rest of the way out of the tent, he sat several feet to her left near the fire and she spoke again. “I’m sorry you got so beaten up. My friends can be… overzealous?” The bruise under his eye stood out against his pale skin, and even though she’d noticed it this morning, it almost startled her. 

He brushed his fingers over the mark. “Well, they certainly got their point across. Varric warned me to watch out for the demon.”

Her eyes narrowed, meeting his head on. “His name is Cole, he’s not a demon, and I don’t want to hear you call him that again.”

He was a little surprised by her tone. Even after he’d almost killed her, there hadn’t been such a hard edge in her voice. “I… but he is?” He was a little bewildered.

She bristled. “He’s someone who wants to help other people… if you’re going to say such things, I’ll have to request that you be moved to work somewhere else.”

Fenris blinked. Her eyes glowed in the firelight, and he may have been much taller then her, but he felt almost small under her gaze. “I apologize, I meant no offense.”

She relaxed slightly, but her eyes were still intent. “Just don’t say things like that. And also, yeah, Varric is right, Cole wants to kill you.”

“I assume for the same reason as all your companions?”

“Yup, but Cole actually  _ feels _ pain.”

He didn’t understand how both the Inquisitor and Varric were so fond of the demon, but he didn’t want to ask. He had no desire to see that harsh look on her face again. “And you love… him?”

“He takes care of everyone else, so I take care of him,” she shrugged, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

“Maybe you should try to get some sleep Inquisitor.”

“Presley,” she corrected him, ignoring his suggestion.

He sighed. “Presley. You should still get some rest, we have an early morning.”

She nodded reluctantly, wisps of dark hair falling around her face. The hair practically blended into the night sky behind her. “Right, yeah. We’ll have to clear out bandits that have lingered. And then tomorrow, we’ll vanquish a dragon. Bull loves a good dragon fight.”

Fenris had once fought a dragon with Hawke, but she sounded almost relaxed at the prospect of fighting one herself. “Have you ever fought a dragon?”

“Oh, yeah a few times. But we love it.”

There was a split second where he felt icy fear, but he swatted it away, unwilling to examine the cause. “A few?”

“Like three. Apparently, there are a  _ lot _ of dragons around Thedas.”

“I fought a dragon once. It had made its nest in a mine Hawke owned. It was a grueling battle.”

“Yeah, they are. But exhilarating.” She was grinning, and the waning light from the fire made it seem like she was glowing. Another yawn slipped out, but she ignored it. “Why are you up anyways?”

Fenris averted his eyes, the ethereal quality surrounding her making it difficult to keep from telling her. He had woken because of a nightmare, and he wasn’t eager to discuss the details. “I was having trouble sleeping and thought a bit of air might help.”

“Hmm… has it?”

“Yes, but I’ll stay here until you turn in.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. There are a few soldiers keeping an eye on the perimeter. I’ll be fine.”

He had to fight back a smile. “Oh, I have no doubt. But I would rest easier.”

She huffed out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go to bed. Hopefully Dorian is asleep and doesn’t notice I’m there so late.”

He had assumed Dorian was her partner due to their shared tent, but there was an unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he heard it out loud. Much like a few nights ago, he felt reluctant to leave her company, but he watched her stand and stretch. She had changed out of her armor hours ago, and the shirt she was wearing inched up just slightly, leaving a strip of her stomach bare.

Swallowing hard, he hoped she didn’t notice how much difficulty he had tearing his eyes away from her. “Good night Fenris.” Her voice was soft and gentle, and made the fluttering in his chest return with vengeance. 

“Good night Presley.” He watched her crawl into her tent, waiting for the flap to fall closed before returning to his own.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later, Fenris walked the area around their campsite. Presley and her group had left that morning to take care of the dragon, and he’d been restlessly waiting for them since. He’d offered to go along with them, but Presley had just kind of rolled her eyes and smiled before refusing.

It was already getting dark, and they still hadn’t returned, making Fenris irritable. The soldiers who looked after this camp gave him wide berth. None of them were willing to annoy the fabled friend of the Champion, and everyone was still debating why he was there in the first place. Fenris could feel their sidelong glances but ignored them in favor of pacing around the perimeter.

Standing on the edge of the small cliff, he stared out over the wide plains, as if he could will them to come into sight. The sun dipped lower as time passed and he finally spotted the group coming through the field. They were moving slowly, but he wrote it off as exhaustion after a long battle. It wasn’t until one of the soldiers rushed off he felt a spike of concern.

Unsure of what to do, he watched the soldier run to the group. As they got closer, he realized that Bull and Dorian were practically dragging the Inquisitor as Varric followed. The soldier talked to them for a few moments before running back up the hill to the camp. He exchanged some words with some of the other guards, and within moments, everyone was rushing around the camp.

The Inquisitor’s group made their way up the incline slowly, and before Fenris could get a good look, Presley was brought to the closest tent. When Varric saw Fenris skulking on the edges, he made his way through the soldiers and to his friend. 

“What’s going on?” Fenris’s gaze was piercing.

“Oh, the Inquisitor got hit while casting a barrier for the rest of us. As per usual,” Varric rolled his eyes.

“As per usual?”

“She’s very injury prone.”

Bull walked over as he said it, and snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I should have known since within hours of meeting her, she nearly got herself killed trying to close the Breach.”

“To be fair, she was a prisoner. You couldn’t know she would have willingly done it if she wasn’t.”

Varric glanced at the tent. “How is she?”

“Dorian says she’ll be ok.” He gave Fenris a hard look. “Apparently, the wound on her stomach wasn’t as healed as she thought. When the dragon hit her, it reopened and caused some bleeding.”

Fenris averted his eyes, swallowing hard, not knowing what to say as Bull continued. “He’s going to give her stitches and try a healing spell to carry her over until she’s strong enough to do it.”

One of the soldiers came over to inform them there was food prepared. The three men made their way over to the fire to eat quietly, and soon Dorian joined them. He had blood staining the front of his robe, and he looked exhausted and grim. His glare was intense when aimed at Fenris. 

“Is everything ok?” Varric looked up.

“She’s annoyed, but sleeping. I told her we have to cut the trip short and head back to Skyhold.”

“We finished up everything we needed to do, why is she annoyed?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “She says I’m babying her.”

Bull chuckled. “She always says that.”

“We wouldn’t be able to baby her if we tried. She’s the woman in charge of the Inquisition.” Dorian shook his head exasperatedly, before standing. “We’ll head out midmorning. I want Presley to have plenty of time to rest.”

He was about to continue, but they heard rustling from the tent behind him, and before he’d even looked, Dorian sighed loudly. “Oh Maker.”

Presley stumbled to where they were, holding a hand to her side. Varric immediately went to help her, but she bat his hands away. “I’m ok.”

“Presley Lavellan! I told you to stay in the tent and rest.” Dorian scolded, eyes narrowing at her as she stepped beside him.

“I did, and then I got up,” she smiled sweetly.

Fenris felt relieved to see her in person. She was pale, a bruise on her right cheek, and her hair fell in wisps around her face. When she noticed him staring, she tilted her head in question, but didn’t say anything as he averted his eyes. The fire reflected so perfectly in her eyes, it was as if the eyes themselves were made of fire.

She leaned heavily into Dorian’s side, taking the cup of water Varric handed her. Her eyes were drooping within only a few minutes, and Dorian shook his head, looking down at her fondly. “Are you hungry?” He jostled her slightly.

“Hm? Oh, no, I’m ok. Not tired at all.”

Varric’s amusement showed plainly on his face. “Not what he asked pipsqueak.”

“What did you ask then?”

“Food Presley, would you like some food?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get you back to bed you insane thorn in my side.”

She poked Dorian’s chest. “You love me.”

He rolled his eyes. “So you keep insisting.”

She scoffed, looking minorly offended. “Fine, find your own tent to sleep in then.” They disappeared into their tent.

Fenris stared after them, chest feeling tight. “They seem very happy together.”

Varric looked at him strangely. “They always are. They’d do anything for each other.”

“As any couple should.” 

He was startled when both Bull and Varric began laughing. It took them quite a while to gather themselves. “Oh, that’s funny. Why would you think they were a couple?” Bull rubbed his eyes, wide grin still on his face.

Fenris felt unusually flustered. “I just assumed… they share a tent…” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t form complete sentences.

“No, no. They’re very much in love, but in a very platonic way.”

“A very platonic, very flirty way,” Bull added.

“I didn’t mean to assume…”

Varric pat his arm comfortingly. “Everyone does.”

“Thanks Fenris, we really needed that after today,” Bull shook his head. “I’ll be off to bed then.” He looked at the elf again, amusement showing plainly on his face. “Dorian and Presley,” he scoffed as he walked away.

Varric’s gaze was piercing when Fenris looked back at him. “You like her, that’s why you didn’t kill her.”

Fenris felt his face flush. “What? No, you’ve been reading too many of your romance serials.”

“No, that’s Cassandra. I know you Broody. As long as we’ve been friends, you’ve never looked at anyone the way you look at her. And you’ve only known her a few days!”

“That’s insane Varric, I don’t know her well enough to like her.”

“Please, when we got back to camp, you were even broodier then usual. You were worried.”

“I was concerned about… you,” he finished lamely.

The dwarf chuckled, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky you can still play Wicked Grace, you used to be a much better liar.”

He glared. “Fine, perhaps I find the Inquisitor… interesting.”

“Oh, interesting is it? Once Cole doesn’t want to kill you, I’ll have to make him stand next to you. See if you  _ only _ think she’s interesting.”

Fenris clenched his jaw, done with Varric’s teasing. “I’d like to see you try dwarf.” 

The way Varric’s face lit up made it clear that’s _ just _ what he’d be seeing.


	6. Chapter 6

They had been back at Skyhold a few weeks when a runner approached Fenris to let him know the spymaster wanted to see him. Still a little intimidated by Leliana, he immediately left to go to her rookery. He found her bent over a map on a table speaking to a few of her agents. Waiting in the background, he glanced around at all the birds squawking in their cages.

After she’d sent the agents away, she approached him, not bothering with any pleasantries. “The Inquisitor is heading to the Winter Palace tomorrow morning. Everyone will be accompanying her, and Varric requested that you be allowed to come along as well.”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might be blushing. “Oh? Why exactly did he request that?”

“I assume because you’re new to the Inquisition and he doesn’t want to leave you alone here. Why, is there another reason he might?” Leliana’s face was impossible to read, her eyes sharp. 

Fenris was fairly certain that it was a trick question. As far as he knew, nothing happened in the Inquisition that their spymaster didn’t know about. “Not that I know of, no.”

Her face softened the slightest bit, and he wondered what he had just given away. “Very well. You’ll have to head straight to the tailor in Josie’s office to get your formalwear altered. He started making it as soon as Varric made the request.”

“When was that?”

“Oh, just after you returned to Skyhold.”

He set his lips in a thin line. “I see, I’ll go meet with the tailor right away.”

She nodded, turning away to indicate he was dismissed. On his way down the stairs, he passed Dorian who glanced over at him. He looked thoughtful, and as soon as he’d reached the top of the stairs, Fenris could just make out the sound of the mage and the spymaster’s whispers before he stepped into the library.

Fenris had just walked into the entryway of the ambassador’s office, when he heard Presley. “I don’t want to wear this!” The words were a long strung together whine.

Neither of them turned as he opened the door, and Josephine put her hands on her hips. “Presley Amaranthine Lavellan, you can’t arrive to the Winter Palace in formal armor, its unbecoming.”

“But Josie…” She stepped away from the desk waving a hand down her front. “I’ll just change out of it immediately after arriving. All of us are wearing the same exact thing all night.”

Fenris’s breath caught when he saw what exactly Presley was wearing. It was a long dark purple gown, gently brushing the floor as she moved. The color was so dark it was nearly black, and crystals around her waist cast rainbows on the fabric when the light hit them the right way. His eyes trailed to her face, resisting the urge to smile at the way her lip was stuck out in a pout.

“Please, Presley, we need to make a good impression. It’s Val Royeaux, they need to see you as a contender in the game.”

“Which they will, if we present a united front.”

Josephine raised her eyebrows, looking mischievous. “Let’s ask Fenris what he thinks.” She acknowledged him for the first time since he’d entered as they both turned to look at him. “Fenris, how do  _ you  _ think Presley should look when we arrive?”

He couldn’t seem to open his mouth to say anything, but it was covered by the way Presley whirled back around, and he admired the way she could move as if she was in her normal armor. “Why does he get to decide?”

“He’s new so he’s unaware of what a nightmare you are when you don’t get your way,” Josephine looked towards him once again. 

Finally managing to gather his thoughts, Fenris was able to speak. “I think the Inquisitor would look formidable no matter what she wore.”

Presley looked triumphant before he continued. “I however, have attended a gathering among Orlesians, and they value posturing.”

Josephine looked smug. “I agree. Presley, you can change as soon as you’ve been introduced and speak to the Empress.”

“You just want more nobles to propose so you can get the jump on them,” Presley raised her eyebrows at her ambassador.

“Well, it never hurts to gather more favors among the nobles. But I also think you look beautiful, and the gown will make an impression on the court.”

Fenris was speaking again before he could think about it. “I agree, everyone will want the attention of the beautiful and mysterious Inquisitor.”

He didn’t miss the way Presley’s cheeks flushed even though he couldn’t see her whole face. “Fine, but I want it known that I’m against this.”

“Of course Inquisitor,” Josephine’s small smile negated her respectful tone.

Presley scowled at her before turning to the door. “Why are you here anyways?”

“Leliana told me the tailor would be here so I could be fitted.”

The ambassador looked like she was about to say something, but she closed her mouth and pasted on a smile instead. “She must have been mistaken, the tailor is right down those steps. He just needs to make some final adjustments. Presley, why don’t you show him down, so they can make the final alterations to your outfits.”

Presley’s curtsey took Fenris by surprise until she spoke. “Of course mother, would you also like to remind me to eat?”

Josephine looked thoughtful. “Yes, actually. You forgot to eat lunch.”

Giving a final sigh and eye roll, the Inquisitor walked to the door, skirting past Fenris who couldn’t get his legs to move. She looked even more beautiful up close, her striking eyes made even more enchanting by the purple of the gown. The charcoal that she normally had smudged around her eyes was absent, and he had to avert his gaze to keep from staring for too long.

He followed her down the stairs and to the middle of a room with several suits of armor on display. In the middle was a human man and a dwarven woman talking while sitting on a setee. They didn’t bother getting up as the Inquisitor entered, and he would’ve been offended by the lack of ceremony if Presley didn’t offer them such a wide grin across the room.

“I can’t believe you even  _ suggested _ this gown. Now I have to wear it!” Her voice echoed off the walls of the mostly empty room.

“I knew you would see things our way. You look beautiful,” the woman smiled.

Presley ducked her head at the complement. “Oh! This is Fenris by the way, he’s here for his suit alterations.”

The man jumped up. “Ah, yes of course. Selia will take care of you while I work on the Inquisitor’s gown.” He grabbed a suit hanging on the wall and handed it to Fenris. “There’s a small library just over there, you can go change there.”

Fenris went where he was told, and got into the suit as quickly as possible. When he returned, he was stopped short by the sight of Presley in only her small clothes, with a dagger strapped to her leg. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed as she spotted him returning, only shooting him a crooked smile.

The woman immediately pushed him to the middle of the room only a few feet away from Presley. She smiled up at him before walking a circle around him. “Only a few adjustments to be made, hm…” Humming to herself, she began her work.

The man was flitting about, sewing something on the gown. Settling on the setee, Presley crossed her legs and began chatting with the two as they worked. Fenris found his gaze straying to her more often then not, and tried not to be too obvious about it. Her dark hair was mussed from taking the gown off, but she seemed unbothered, making no motion to fix it. The only thing that kept him from blurting out something embarrassing was the presence of the tailors.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but seeing the way Presley interacted with them was fascinating. She didn’t demand any formalities, and treated them as equals. In his time there, he had seen her treat everyone with that same courtesy, from her closest friends and advisors to the men working the stables. The fate of Thedas rested in her hands, but no one would ever know how much power she held seeing how she acted.

He’d heard conversations since his arrival, people snickering behind her back about a ‘knife-ear’ being in charge, but she didn’t seem phased. When they’d arrived back from Crestwood and passed one such conversation, she had snorted. Despite allowing such disrespect to herself, Presley was always checking to see if all the other elves in the Inquisition were being treated with respect. She’d even asked him, though most people had been too afraid to be rude to him since Varric’s book had come out.

Eventually her easy chatter was interrupted by the sound of the door above them opening. The tailor’s waited to resume conversation until they saw it was a servant. He was carrying a tray of food, which he set on the table beside where Presley sat.

“Inquisitor, the spymaster asked that I deliver this to you.”

He bowed slightly, and Fenris didn’t miss the unabashed way his eyes roved over the Inquisitor. She didn’t seem to notice, and his hands tightened into fists, holding himself still to resist the urge to use them. 

“Oh, thank you!” Presley smiled up at the man, totally unphased by her state of undress. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

“No, but thank you.” She popped a grape into her mouth.

Giving her one final once over, the man bowed and left without another word. Fenris was holding himself so tightly, the woman doing the alterations noticed. “I need you to relax dear,” she pat his hand reassuringly.

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to relax. When he looked over at her, Presley was watching him. “Everything alright? You know, if you don’t want to come to the ball, I’d totally understand.  _ I _ don’t even want to go.”

Seeing her roll her eyes, he couldn’t hold back a small smile. “No, I want to attend.”

Her face lit up. “Maybe we can have a dance if there’s time between killing things.”

The suggestion made Fenris’s cheeks feel warm. “I never turn down dances from beautiful Inquisitors.”

“Well, good thing you only know one then,” she grinned. “Otherwise all your time would be spent dancing.”

“I assure you, you’re the only beautiful Inquisitor I ever wish to know.” The words were out before he could stop them.

She flushed, and he could see it spread to her chest. Before she could answer, the man altering her dress spoke up. “Inquisitor, the dress is done, if you’ll try it on again please.”

Popping another grape in her mouth, she stood, putting her arms over her head. He pulled it over her head, and when she emerged, her hair was even more messed up. Full tresses had escaped her ponytail, swaying slightly as she turned around so the dress could be buttoned. 

She turned around and as soon as she smiled at him, his breath caught in his chest and he couldn’t look away. Having her hair falling all over the place while she wore such a beautiful gown should have looked ridiculous, but on her, it was anything but.

She put a hand on her hip. “Well?” 

The mark cast a glow on the dress, and he should have been repulsed by the blatant show of magic, but there was none of that. He was completely, utterly,  _ awestruck _ . “You look beautiful.” His voice was softer then he intended, and he wished he could close the distance between them. He couldn’t believe that the woman he had almost  _ killed _ just over a month ago was now making his heart feel like it might beat out of his chest. 

The same blush that had appeared the other times he’d complemented her was back with a vengeance. She was saved from answering when Leliana appeared, and Fenris was too busy wondering how she had gotten there without a sound to be startled. “Inquisitor, you look lovely. You’ll have the noble women threatening to murder you as soon as you step on palace grounds.”

“That’s the dream.” She looked at the cloth in Leliana’s arms longingly. “Are those my clothes?” 

“Yes, and if you’re all done...” The spymaster waited for a nod from the tailors to walk closer. “Then you can have them.”

Presley nearly sagged in relief. “Oh, creators, thank the Maker!” 

She didn’t seem to realize how blasphemous that sounded until she spotted Leliana staring. “Whoops, sorry,” she smiled apologetically.

“Just don’t go scandalizing the nobles in Val Royeaux with exclamations like that.”

The Inquisitor curtsied, and Leliana rolled her eyes before helping her unbutton the dress. Practically jumping for joy, Presley took the clothes she was handed, sighing in relief as she pulled them on. The dagger that had been strapped to her leg was moved to a holster on her hip, and she finally took a moment to fix her ponytail.

“Much better,” she sighed. “What did you come down here for?”

“You have a final etiquette lesson to finish. If Fenris is done, Josie would like him to come as well.”

Presley’s face brightened. “Is he done?”

The dwarven woman rolled her eyes. “Yes Inquisitor, he’s all set.”

“Oh good, I’ll meet you upstairs then.”

She was halfway to the stairs before Leliana’s voice stopped her. “Take the food with you.”

Sighing, the Inquisitor returned to get the tray. “Happy?” She held it up as she passed the spymaster. 

“Very. I’ll be up in a few minutes to see if you actually eat something.”

Fenris saw Presley shake her head once before heading up the stairs. Returning to the library, he changed as quickly as he could, careful not to jostle any of the pins that had been put in. When he returned to the main area, he heard the three talking quietly. 

“So, you think she likes…” The man’s voice trailed off as Fenris walked in. 

Leliana smiled confidently. “I know she likes the dress. She’s just stubborn. And cautious, she’s never spent time in a dress before.”

Fenris was fairly certain the statement had double meaning, but he wasn’t sure  _ what _ the other might be. Both tailors nodded, smiling at Leliana as she passed them to approach him. “Let’s head upstairs, shall we? I really do have to see if Presley ate anything.” 

Nodding dumbly, he followed her upstairs. When Leliana discovered the Inquisitor had indeed eaten, Fenris was confusingly pleased, but as soon as Presley smiled up at him, he forgot why that might be a bad thing.


	7. Chapter 7

True to everyone’s word, Presley was the talk of the ball. Some were jealous, and others wanted her. It had been torture for Fenris to hear the combination of insults and lustful comments made about her and not be able to do anything. However, even if he’d known the level of self control needed to get through the night, he would have come. 

Everytime Presley had a minute, she would flit by to talk to him. Even after she’d changed into her formal wear she was stunning, hair matching the black fabric and pulled back in elaborate braids. Remnants of charcoal remained around her eyes throughout the night, making her eyes look deep and mysterious. He had watched her win over nobles all while graciously turning down proposals and stopping assassins. 

Now he watched as she stood beside the Empress and the new Marquis, looking tired, and even from a distance he could see the new cut on her cheek. As soon as they’d made speeches, Fenris was prepared to seek her out, when a group of Varric’s fans swooped in to talk to him. Most of them retreated when he glared at them, but there was an annoying man who kept chatting away. 

Tracking Presley’s movements as she navigated the crowd, and after another few minutes when the man still hadn’t taken a hint, he beat a hasty retreat. He found her out on the balcony, leaning over the edge, her head in her hands. She didn’t give any indication that she’d heard him so he took a few hesitant steps forward.

“Presley, are you alright?” He barely bit his tongue in time to stop the word ‘amatus’ from slipping out, but she looked so tired and sad he almost wished he hadn’t caught it in time.

Before he could ask again, she walked towards him, practically collapsing in his arms. She was shaking like a leaf, and her face was pressed to his chest. He was hesitant to wrap his arms around her, but he did it anyway, relieved when she relaxed into his embrace. He whispered every comforting phrase he’d ever learned in Tevene.

It took quite a while, but she finally calmed, and he realized his hand was cupping the back of her head, as he cradled her to his chest. Embarrassment shot through him, and he went to remove his hand until her muffled voice stopped him.

“Leave it… please.”

He wasn’t sure how she’d known, but an uncharacteristic wave of genuine affection had him pressing a kiss to her temple. She pressed herself closer to him, and he instinctively drew her closer. He didn’t know how, but somehow she had wormed her way into his heart, and he realized belatedly that it had been like that since the day in her quarters, when she’d made a joke just after he’d plunged a dagger into her side.

The thought of it was cold and terrifying, and instinct told him to get far away before he could hurt her again. Stumbling back, he was startled to realize she’d grabbed his wrist. When he looked at her face, black charcoal had run while she’d cried, leaving streaks down her face. They stared at each other quietly for a moment, and even though part of him knew he should walk away, she looked so vulnerable, he just couldn’t make himself do it.

Sighing, he reached and wiped the streaks off her face. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, and the fluttering in his chest was nearly unbearable. 

“You know I trust you, right?” Her eyes opened as his fingers curled around the back of her head again.

“You… do?” He thought maybe this was a joke, that any moment she would laugh in his face, and after everything he’d done, he would have deserved it. 

She nodded earnestly, some stray pieces of hair tickling the back of his hand. “Of course, we all do. Leliana would never have let you travel with me if she didn’t. I told her she and Cullen could decide what you could do. They could have sent you to the Western Approach and made sure we never crossed paths again. You made a mistake, I don’t think they hold it against you, and  _ I  _ certainly don’t.”

He smiled weakly, his heart doing double time in his chest. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” his voice was rough.

Presley nodded again, slower, and more hesitantly. “I have too.”

Fenris didn’t know exactly what she was referring to, but she had a far off look in her eye that made his stomach twist into knots. He knew if she didn’t get away from him, he would kiss her, and it didn’t take much thought to realize that he would never want to stop. “You should go inside Inquisitor.” Even as he said the words, his arms stayed wrapped around her, thumb making arcs over her pulsepoint.

Her eyes glinted challengingly. “Do you really, truthfully, want me to?” 

Before he could make his mouth say yes, he was shaking his head no. The truth was he didn’t think he could ever bare watching her turn her back on him. She waited a few beats as she searched his face. “Can I kiss you?”

His response came without thought. “Always.”

The sight of the little smirk she gave him made his chest feel full to the point of overflowing. He watched as she stood on tiptoes, and he leaned down to meet her halfway. It was a gentle kiss, so unbearably sweet it was painful to pull away.

He searched her face. “I believe if you do that again, you’ll have to make an early exit.” It had been a short kiss, but he was still breathless, the feel of her lips lingering on his own.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, staring at him in amazement. “I’m sure no one would miss us.”

Her smile made him want to go with her bluff, but he knew that after saving all of Orlais, she would be in high demand. “I wish I could believe it, but you’re a very easy woman to miss.”

He felt more then saw her blush, reluctantly moving his hand from her head. When he saw her tilt her head back for another kiss, he happily obliged. This kiss wasn’t as gentle, or as short, but he pulled away before it could go too far. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“I’ll see you at the end of the night.”

She smirked again. “I’ll make sure of it.”


	8. Chapter 8

A few months after Halamshiral, Fenris found himself amazed that Presley was still with him. He had practically moved into her quarters, and he  _ adored _ her, a feeling completely unfamiliar to him. 

Walking up the stairs to her quarters, he walked around the railing. He looked at the couch, and the bed, but Presley wasn’t at either of them. Brows furrowing, he wondered if Leliana had somehow been wrong about the Inquisitor’s location. He glanced out onto the balcony and caught sight of black head of hair in the corner.

He headed outside, a cool breeze going right through him. Immediately, he realized Presley wasn’t wearing anything to stave off the cold, and before he going out, he grabbed a blanket off the bed. When he knelt in front of her, he found her staring off into space.

“Presley?” His voice was soft.

“Hm? Fenris,” her lips turned up at the corners as she looked up at him.

He sighed softly, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She shot him a grateful smile, and once he sat beside her, she scooted closer to put the edge of the blanket over him. “What are you doing out here in the cold?” He brought her hand up to press a kiss to the back.

“I’m just a little tired.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?”

She blew out a breath. “I tried, I couldn’t get to sleep without you there.” When she realized what she’d said, her face flushed bright red, but she didn’t backpedal.

“I would have come if you’d asked.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not a bother,” he paused a moment. “What were you thinking about when I came out?” 

She shrugged. “Nothing important really.”

The protest did nothing to ease his concern, and there was an intense feeling of relief that flowed through him when she crawled into his lap, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “Did I ever tell you how happy I am that you didn’t kill me?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can’t recall. But the feeling is mutual amatus.”

Presley closed her eyes. “Dorian calls me that sometimes. It’s a horrible insult of some kind, isn’t it?”

Fenris couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, her pleased hum easing some of his concern. “No, amatus is an endearment, closer to my love, or beloved.”

“Oh, I’m so going to tease Dorian about this,” he could feel her smile against his neck as she paused. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head. “Wait, you love me?” Sleepiness was evident in her voice.

He considered the question carefully. It had only been a few months, but now that they were together, he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He was unfamiliar with romantic love, and up until ten years ago, he’d had little experience with familial love either. But with Presley, he somehow felt as though he’d loved her forever.

“I think so.”

She yawned. “I think I love you too.”

Fenris felt an overwhelming feeling of  _ rightness _ settle in his chest. “Sleep amatus, you’ve exhausted yourself.”

She laced their fingers together. “Will you stay?”

He fixed the blanket over her, lips curling up even though she couldn’t see it. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Fenris placed a final kiss to her forehead, and within minutes, her breathing had evened, and she was fast asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea my sister and I tossed around. It was supposed to be a quick little story, but it kind of got away from me.


End file.
